


Legends of Sherwood Forest

by Jael, pir8grl



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, F/M, Robin Hood References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-12 05:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9058042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jael/pseuds/Jael, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pir8grl/pseuds/pir8grl
Summary: Vandal Savage is wreaking havoc in Merry Olde England.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The first time Savage encounters Oliver, he mentions that he taught Robin of Locksley how to shoot arrows. Another one of those "it started on Tumblr!" posts.

“Hey, guys?” Jax asked, frowning at his screen. “Since when did Robin Hood have some Moorish dude teach him how to shoot arrows?”

Ray looked at the younger man with a smile. “Well, a Moor who came back from the Crusades with Robin is a fairly recent addition to the classic stories. It’s used in 'Prince of Thieves,' and the BBC show from a couple of years ago.”

“Both recent BBC series, actually. Although Cisco Ramon would be your best resource for minutiae about films,” Martin added dryly, looking up from a book from where he sat in his usual jump seat. While it was unusual for more than two or maybe three team members to congregate on the bridge for anything other than a meeting, landing or departure, their lengthy stay in the temporal zone this time had them all a little more social than usual.

“Yeah, but this isn’t a movie, Gray. This is a British history documentary. And it says that Prince John never became king.”

“Thought he was the bad guy?” Snart drawled, without looking up from his cards. Even the team's crook and assassin, who'd increasingly been spending their time alone together--a topic of some speculation amidst the others--were playing what appeared to be gin on the floor, with Snart arranged in his usual sprawl and Sara tucked neatly into a corner near the doorway.

“Usually, in the Robin Hood stories. But King John signed the Magna Carta, which laid the foundation for the strong parliamentary government and constitutional monarchy that Great Britain has now,” Ray said, with growing concern.

Snart sighed. " _Again_ with the Wikipedia crap, Raymond?" But, frowning, Sara laid down her cards. “Gideon?”

“There has been a shift in the timeline of Great Britain, Miss Lance.”

“Can you take us there?”

“Take you where?” Rip asked, the commotion finally drawing him out of his study. "It is usual to ask the captain when directing the ship, you know..."

“Sherwood Forest, to meet Robin Hood,” Jax supplied, grinning broadly.

“And keep Vandal Savage from rewriting the history of Europe,” Sara added.

“Gideon -”

"They are correct, Captain. This timeline shift could have catastrophic consequences for the future of not only that region, but the world."

Rip sighed but, eyeing his crew, nodded. "Do it."

“Course laid in, Captain.”

* * *

“I am not wearing that,” Sara said flatly, staring at the newest creation in the Waverider's fabrication room.

“This is appropriate female attire for medieval England, Miss Lance,” Gideon replied.

“No,” Sara reiterated, eyeing the heavy velvet gown with distaste. “How an I supposed to move--much less fight--in all that?”

“It’s medieval England, Sara,” Ray said in a placating manner. “This is how medieval damsels--”

Sara turned with murder in her eyes.

“I really wouldn’t finish that sentence, Raymond,” Snart warned. The crook looked like he was enjoying the whole scene just a little too much.

"I don't know, Sara." Kendra also looked that she was enjoying kidding her friend. She nodded toward the dress. "I'm pretty sure some of my previous incarnations have worn that sort of thing or worse. When in Rome..."

"Yeah, well, **_you_** don't have to leave the ship this time because Savage might recognize you." Sara crossed her arms and looked around at her shipmates. “Fine. In every Robin Hood book or film ever--how do Robin and Little John meet?”

“Quarterstaff fight on the bridge,” Jax supplied.

“So, it's likely one of us will have to prove our worth that way. And which one of us fights best with a staff?” Sara asked in a sweet tone that fooled absolutely no one.

Snart gestured to her with a mocking little bow of his head.

“Gideon. Leggings and a tunic, please.”

“Yes, Miss Lance.”

* * *

“How come Mick gets real pants?” Ray whined, eyeing the leather breeches in question as he tried to adjust his tights.

“Because Mr. Rory’s brawn and scars are enough to pass for a blacksmith,” Rip answered wearily. He'd already answered that question three times from various crew members.

“Thanks. I think,” Mick replied.

“Blacksmiths get to play with fire,” Sara informed him, earning herself a grin.

“Well, I must say, I’m comfortable enough,” Martin said, gesturing to his monk’s robe. “But what if anyone asks me anything…er…religious?”

“Just spout something Latin at them. They’ll never know the difference,” Snart suggested. He seemed more than comfortable in his own set of tights, and heaven knows Sara certainly seemed to appreciate them.

Martin didn’t look very reassured.

Sara smirked and reached up to adjust Snart’s leather hat to a more rakish angle.

Rip sucked in a deep breath and gazed around at his crew. “Now, if we can all just try to focus. Our initial mission is to survey the situation and determine exactly what Savage is up to. Preferably ** _without_** killing anyone or causing further damage to the timeline.”

“Then can I set him on fire?” Mick asked.

* * *

Rip and Gideon set the Waverider down in a convenient clearing not so far from a few villages both large and small and the region of forest where the storied outlaw and his band were rumored to dwell. Even Gideon's extensive knowledge couldn't entirely pin down a living legend, leaving it up to the crew to do so. After a brief squabble about direction, they set off into the trees, seeking either 'Merry Men' or the nearest village, whichever came first.

“Guys, this is so cool! We actually get to meet Robin Hood!” Ray said enthusiastically as they wandered through the forest.

“How come Sara’s the only one with a bow and arrows?” Jax grumbled.

“Because she’s the only one who knows how to use them without shooting herself, or one of us, in the leg,” Snart said curtly. The crook, a city boy born and raised, may have taken the tights with equanimity, but he was not enthused at all about spending time in the woods, something Sara enjoyed ribbing him about.

Sara eyed him with a smirk. “Anytime you’re up for lessons, Crook, let me know.”

“I might take you up on that, Assassin.”

“As I was saying back on the ship,” Rip began in a long-suffering tone, “we’re here to gather information, first and foremost-”

“And the best place to gather information in a preliterate society -” Martin continued.

“Is a bar,” Mick concluded, with a gleam in his eyes, stopping in his tracks. Ahead of them, a road had finally appeared, wending its way through the trees...and farther ahead along it, visible in the distance, one of the larger villages Gideon had pinpointed.

“Catch you later,” Snart threw over his shoulder as he headed purposefully in that direction, Mick and Sara falling into step beside him.

“No - wait - that’s not -” Rip spluttered.

“We got this,” Sara told him.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

* * *

 “What’s good to drink in a place like this?” Mick asked, looking around the small tavern with interest.

“Anything but the water,” Sara told him.

“Good thing I got the cider, then,” Snart said, plunking down three battered tankards on the table.

Mick sampled his and made a face, then knocked back the whole tankard anyway.

Sara raised an eyebrow and took a cautious sip. “Not bad.” She drained her own drink.

Snart watched them in amusement.

“Next round on me?” Sara asked, rising from her seat.

“I’m good,” Snart replied, his eyes never ceasing to scan the room. His expression hardened as a burly man stepped up behind Sara. “I ** _really_** wouldn’t do that,” he drawled as a beefy hand descended towards Sara’s shoulder.

It never found its target as Sara whirled into action. Before anyone in the tavern could react, the interloper was on his knees with his arm twisted up behind him at a painful angle. Several others got to their feet, reaching for assorted weapons.

Snart set his drink down, mouth set in a firm line.

“My dearest love, are these ruffians troubling you?” a new voice asked.

“What the _hell?”_ Sara exclaimed.

Tall. Green leather clothing. Bow and arrow. And most definitely **_not_** Oliver Queen.

Sara’s gaze flickered to the hand on her arm.

"Love?!" Snart said, his brow furrowed in annoyance.

“And people call me dumb,” Mick remarked, grinning.

Heartbeats later, green guy found himself flat on the floor. “Marion, sweetling, what’s wrong? Don’t you know me? And where have you been?”

The trio of time travelers exchanged glances.

"I think," Snart said, "that we may have run into a small complication."

Sara scanned the room. “Make that several big complications,” she muttered, eyeing the men who were moving to surround them.

A husky man just shy of seven feet stepped closer and spoke in a surprisingly gentle voice. “Marion, lass, are you well? Where have you been? We’ve been so worried. Even the Moor couldn’t find you.”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding,” Snart muttered.

“I’ve…uh…been traveling,” Sara replied, wincing at how lame that sounded. “I’m so sorry,” she said to the oaf on the floor. “It’s just…you startled me. I’ve been on the road, and a girl can’t be too careful.”

Green guy got himself to his feet. “You should have gotten word to me,” he said reproachfully. "And...your clothing!"

Big guy clapped him on the shoulder. “Robin, lad, you know how hard it is to get a messenger through Sherwood. Just be grateful she’s home safe.”

“Of course, John,” Robin replied amiably. “And who are your companions?” he asked, eyeing Mick and Snart.

“My escort,” Sara manufactured.

“Well, then, you have my thanks, gentlemen, for bringing my heart’s dearest home safe to me. Innkeep, a round for all!” Robin announced magnanimously.

“I think I like this guy,” Mick decided.

* * *

Mick and not-so-Little John were passed out at the end of the table. Assorted others were under it. Sara, of course, was hardly buzzed, and Snart was nursing the same tankard of cider he’d started out with.

“Tell me again about the Moor, won’t you, Robin?” Sara fake-simpered, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Oh, that’s hardly of interest to a lady.”

“But you know how I love hearing about your adventures!”

Robin drained his tankard, and Snart helpfully slid a full one in front of him.

“Much obliged!” he slurred, raising the mug in salute. “Well, love, as you know, the king’s brother is a weak and foolish man. If he were to ever come to the throne, he would weaken it…weaken England…down to being ruled by the common folk . Can you picture it? So the Moor has been helping me hone my skills with the bow, so that we can eliminate the threat to our homeland forever!”

“And you think the King would be happy that you killed his brother?”

“To protect his throne!” Robin insisted with drunken tenacity. “Besides…they don’t call ‘em the Devil’s Brood for nothing. They’d kill each other, given half a chance.” He belched loudly.

Sara wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Lord Locksley,” and oily voice greeted, sending shivers down Sara’s spine. “I’ve been wondering where you were.”

“Come join us!” Robin proclaimed, sloshing his mug around. “We’re celebrating Marion’s safe return home!”

Sara jerked her head around, meeting Snart's eyes for a mere second before the Moor--the man they know as Vandal Savage--insinuated himself between Robin and her (and, not so coincidentally, Snart).

"My dear lady," he oozed, seizing her hand and bestowing a kiss onto her wrist, a gesture Robin didn't appear to notice but one that had Snart's fists clenched in annoyance and Sara throttling back rage she couldn't show. "We are so glad to have you home. What became of you over the past few weeks? Your betrothed was sorely grieved."

Sara gave him a smile that was little more than a baring of teeth. "Oh...traveling. You know my Lord Locksley." She laughed lightly. "I told him ages ago about my errand. I am sorry to have worried anyone."

Robin, apparently undisturbed by the total falsehood, simply peered into his tankard with a sigh. "It's empty," he said mournfully, than carefully put his head down on the table. Everyone ignored him. 

“I don’t know how you managed to get free, Lady Marion-” Savage whispered, leaning in entirely too close. He broke off, studying her closely. “You are not Marion,” he determined. “No matter. You can be of use to me.”

“I don’t think so.” Sara's voice was curt, cold. Watching, Snart could see her right hand move, just a little. Going for one of her many knives? Probably. 

“Have we met? You seem to have an unusual enmity for me.” Moving like a striking snake, Savage grabbed her hand. Sara's eyes flashed. _Uh, oh_. Standing, Snart prepared to distract the man.

“I’d think you’d be used to it by now,” he replied, stepping back and then abruptly lifting a chair to smash it across Savage’s back.

“Who are you, to stand against me?” Savage raged, turning to face the crook...who retreated just far enough to give his teammate an opening, one that she immediately took.

“He’s a better man than you’ll ever be,” Sara declared, swinging for his jaw.

Moving faster than he should have been able to, Savage grabbed Sara’s arm and pulled her up against himself, knife at her throat. At the same time, several of the supposedly drunk villagers pushed themselves to their feet, moving to surround Snart.

The crook's eyes flashed from enemy to enemy, finally settling back on Sara, who was holding herself perfectly still while looking like she wanted to rip Savage's lungs out and then feed them to him. 

"What do you want?" he hissed, trying to buy her time.

"Ah. Just your pretty friend here." The other man smiled coldly. "You can try playing the hero and coming to look for her...if you survive. Kill him!"

One of the "villagers" pulled a knife that rivaled anything Sara had in her arsenal, and they all converged on him. It took a few minutes of intensive dirty fighting...and every trick Mick had taught him way back in juvie...but eventually Snart came out of the pile bleeding slightly, but triumphant, and with the knife in hand.

But Sara, and Savage, were nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Snart was busy dousing the heroes of Sherwood Forest with a bucket of cold water in hopes of rousing them when Ray and Martin burst into the tavern.

“Oh, wow!” Ray exclaimed, pointing to the man in green. “Is that really-?”

“Yes, Raymond,” Snart ground out. He nudged the snoring woodsman none too gently with the toe of his boot.

“And is that-?”

 ** _“Yes,_** Raymond.”

“Captain, we’ve located Mr. Snart and Mr. Rory,” Martin said quietly into his comm. “Is he all right?” he asked, nodding towards Mick.

Snart looked to his partner, who was rooting around the fireplace, looking for something to eat. “He’s fine,” the crook replied sourly.

“And yourself? Let me take a look at that cut.”

Snart gingerly touched his forehead, his fingers coming away bloody. “We’ve got bigger problems.”

* * *

“Oh, another bar brawl. Why am I not surprised?” Rip commented, entering the tavern with Jax and stepping over and around unconscious bodies and broken furniture.

“You wanted information,” Mick grunted. “We got some.”

“OK,” Ray began, “Vandal Savage is teaching Robin Hood how to be the greatest archer in history, so he can assassinate Prince John and alter the course of history. We’ve got a time ship. Why don’t we go collect Oliver Queen, and let him teach Robin? History gets to keep the greatest archer of all time, but without the evil influence?”

“No, that won’t work,” Rip told them. "We’re already involved with this series of events. We have to work it out for ourselves.”

“Captain Hunter, there’s something else you should know,” Martin began.

Rip braced himself against what promised to be a pounding headache of epic proportions and motioned for him to continue.

“Savage has Sara,” Snart announced tersely.

“Thing is, Blondie looks just like Maid Marion,” Mick supplied. 

Rip stared at him for a long second. "He...and she...bloody hell." He looked longingly at the bar. "Is there anything to drink or did you lot somehow manage to drink it all?"

Snart rolled his eyes.

“How could you just let him take Sara?” Jax demanded.

Snart glared at him as Martin tried to clean up the bloody cut on his forehead. “Well, for one thing, I was the only other one sober enough to stand -”

“You sayin’ this is my fault?” Mick challenged.

“Enough!” Rip bellowed to head off the encroaching argument. “I’m sure there’s plenty of blame to go around.”

“The only person we should be blaming for this is Savage,” Martin said patiently. “Remember, at this point in time, he’s still got 3,000 years of experience.”

“Mostly in dirty tricks,” Ray added sympathetically.

Snart shot him a dirty look, not wanting anyone’s sympathy, or empathy, or any other bullshit. The only thing he wanted just then was to know that Sara was safe, and out of that slimy bastard’s reach. And the depth of that particular emotion was just a bit terrifying.

"We need to find out where he's holed up," he said shortly. "The so-called 'hero' of the story is dumb as a post. He's been accepting lessons and advice from this phony 'friend of Sherwood' without ever wondering who the hell the man was or where he was from. Even after I dunked his head in a bucket of water to sober him up, he had no idea where 'the Moor' was actually staying."

Mick, who'd been the recipient of that treatment himself, grunted. "And then he offered to fight Snart for offering insult to his 'friend,' " he added. "That didn't go so well."

Rip rounded on them again. "Please tell me you left him alive."

"Relax, captain. The bow-and-arrow brigade crawled back into the woods." The crook gave him a long-suffering look. "If I killed people for the crime of sheer stupidity, there'd be a lot less of you around."

Rip seemed uncertain how to react to that. After giving him a moment (and looking vaguely disappointed at the lack of reaction), Snart continued. "Suffice it to say that the outlaws of Sherwood are going to help us search the forest, if only because Mr.  Hood intends to prove to us that his buddy the Moor is on the up and up. But we find him...we find Sara.

"That is, if Sara hasn't killed him herself first..."

“Good heavens!”

Snart rolled his eyes, wondering just when this was all going to end. The newcomer stood in the doorway of the tavern, surveying the damage. He was short and plump, dressed in a coarse brown monk’s robe, rosary dangling from his rope belt-- in short, Friar Tuck himself, straight from the pages of a storybook.

“Good day to you, Brother-?” he said pleasantly, making a beeline for Martin.

“Er, Brother Martin,” the scientist replied, throwing an ‘I told you so’ glance to the rest of the team.

“Brother Martin. I am Brother Tuck. I’m in search of some friends of mine…I believe they were here last night.”

“Yes, well, it appears there was a bit of a fracas here last night. Some travelers, and well, Robin Hood, and er…a Moor,” Martin replied, scrambling a bit.

“I don’t like him,” the Friar stated flatly. “I’ve told Robin so, quite plainly, but the lad is -”

“Stupid?” Snart suggested.

“Stubbornly loyal. The Moor saved his life during the war. Robin can’t see past that. Marion could, of course. Clever girl.”

Jax was moving, even before the gentle mental prod from Martin, holding a chair for Friar Tuck. Rip caught on and set a plate of bread and cheese in front of him.

“Oh, thank you. I’m much obliged.”

“Tell me, Friar, have you any idea where Maid Marion might be?” Martin inquired.

“It’s my belief that the Moor has her hidden away, but Robin wouldn’t hear of it.”

“Well, we’d like to hear your theory. We think that your…Moor has also taken a friend of ours. Have you any idea where he might be hiding them?”

Friar Tuck chewed a mouthful of bread contemplatively, nodding his thanks when Snart slipped a tankard of ale in front of him. “There’s an old monastery deep in the heart of Sherwood Forest. Most folk avoid it, as it was abandoned during the last plague. It has an odd reputation.”

“How so?” Martin asked intently.

“It’s built on an old ruin. Very old.”

“Roman, perhaps?”

“Just so, my learned friend.”

“Could you perhaps give us directions?”

“It would be my very great pleasure. You will bring Marion safe home to us, won’t you?”

“Count on it,” Snart promised.

* * *

" _Of course_ the creepy old abandoned building in the woods has its own graveyard,” Jax said, surveying the scene before them.

“Storybook 101,” Ray agreed. “Complete with a reputation for being haunted.”

“Can I burn it down?” Mick wanted to know.

“Not with Sara inside!” Snart reminded him. The crook was pacing back and forth and eyeing the building with what appeared to be annoyance but was, in reality, a continued attempt to throttle down the sort of emotions he tended to deny having. Sara, he reminded himself, could take care of herself just fine.

“It actually doesn’t look all that abandoned,” Martin said, pointing to a curl of smoke from a chimney.

“Well, Savage always did have an eye for his own comfort,” Rip reminded them. "All the times I've found him, over all the years, he has never settled for the more basic levels of comfort in whatever the time period. He always wants...more."

“And Marion Fitzwalter is a fairly important asset. He couldn’t just toss her in a dungeon someplace,” Ray said with his usual enthusiasm.

“The same cannot be said for Miss Lance,” Martin reminded them. "In fact, given that she's probably giving him a good deal of trouble, I'd bet on it."

“I had Kendra and Gideon run some scans and do some research,” Rip told them. “This place was built on the ruins of an old Roman villa. There seems to be a network of tunnels running underneath it.”

“Possibly a means of escape, in the event of unfriendly local indigenous tribes,” Martin mused.

“That might explain why no one seemed to have any idea where Savage was holed up,” Snart said thoughtfully. “If he’s got his own private entrance, he can come and go as he pleased, and no one would notice.”

“And Savage totally could have known about something the Romans built, right?” Jax added.

"Quite right, Jefferson," Martin said approvingly.

"Well." Snart paused in his pacing and took a deep breath. "How're we playing this? We need a plan."

"We get in, we get Sara...and Marion... we get out." Ray grinned. "Plan!"

 _"That_ is not a plan, Raymond."

"I still think we should burn it down."

" _No_ , Mick."

Rip gave them a long-suffering look, but then smiled. "Mr. Snart, I believe this is just the type of case for which you were recruited. Breaking and entering is your specialty, is it not?"

"Yeah, breaking and entering with a _plan_." But the crook sighed. "All right. If we're doing this _now_ , this is what we'll do..."

* * *

 The monastery's front door, which looked like a child could break it down, was actually reinforced and fitted with a strong lock--which was child's play for a talented thief. While Rip, Mick and Martin remained outside as backup, Snart, Ray and Jax moved quietly into the building. The only other people they encountered, though, were a snoozing guard, whom Snart promptly sent further into dreamland, and a woman dressed as a servant, who stared at them for a long moment before turning and fleeing silently. 

"Should we stop her?" Ray wondered out loud.

"I doubt Savage engenders much loyalty from his servants," Snart muttered as he cast about for a way into the lower levels. "It's the guards we have to watch for. My guess is that Savage likes bully boys. They'll be in it for the love of violence. Those are the ones who will raise alarms." He gave the other man a direct look. "So don't let them get away. Got it?"

"Got it."

* * *

The staircase into the lower level was well hidden, but the three eventually tracked it down, creeping farther into the building with only a few happy Scooby Doo references from Ray and a few well-chosen epithets from Snart. (Jax rolled his eyes at both of them, but he did it silently.) Snart tested the first and second doors they came to and found them open, the rooms behind them empty...but the third room was not.

“Sara!” Jax called as they broke into the chamber, a well-appointed, warm room that wasn't at all dungeon-like--except for the fact that is was holding a young woman captive.

“Not Sara,” Snart said, staring at the blond woman there.

“She looks like Sara.”

And she did, at least superficially. She was surrounded by yards of pale rose velvet skirts and long, hanging sleeves. Her hair was braided back from her face with ribbons that matched her dress. Loose golden curls cascaded down her back, longer than Sara’s hair, and…she was holding that chunk of firewood all wrong.

“Not quite,” Snart said firmly. "Who _are_ you?"

“My name is Marion," the woman said imperiously. "I order you to release me at once!"

“No? Really?” Ray exclaimed with a goofy grin. "You're Maid Marion?" He cleared his throat. "I mean, we're here to rescue you!"

Jax rolled his eyes disgustedly. "Yeah, I don't think she's seen _Star Wars_ , Ray."

Snart heaved a sigh. "Well," he muttered, "maybe we can use her as leverage." He ignored Ray's horrified look, moving toward the woman and easily side-stepping the improvised weapon. "Like the man said. Rescue. Come with us if you want to get out of here." He rolled his eyes when she brandished it again. "Yeah, yeah, we get it. Now, get moving. Eventually, someone's going to..." 

"Hey! What...?" A guard peered into the room behind them, blinked at the unexpected presence of three visibly well-armed men--then apparently did the math and bolted back down along the corridor. As he hit the staircase, they could hear him calling for help.

Snart whipped his head around to stare at Ray, who'd been the closest to the door. 

"Raymond!" he hissed. "What did I say?"

"He took me by surprise!" The scientist turned to Marion, hesitated, then bowed. "Milady. Come with us, please. We've been sent...sort of...by Lord Locksley."

Marion stared at him in surprise, then nodded, decisively, once and dropped her chunk of firewood. Snart rolled his eyes again. 

"Come on," he said. "We need to get out of here before we're outnumbered. None of us are precisely experts on swordplay and Rip got all pissy about me bringing my gun."

Jax paused. "But...what about Sara?"

"We're going to have to come back for her." Snart hesitated, then cast an opaque look back down the hallway. "She can take care of herself a little bit longer."

As he followed the others down the hall, however, he glanced back once over his shoulder. "Little bit longer," he muttered. "Hang on, assassin."

* * *

 “Do you need to rest, Milady?” Ray asked. He had a firm grip on Marion’s elbow as she struggled through the underbrush in that dress.

“No!” Snart snapped. "We need to get her to the others and get back to Sara as soon as we can."

“You are kind, sir, but we are hardly at a safe distance,” Marion reminded him with a gracious smile.

“I like her!” Mick muttered, casting a quick glance Marion's way with a grin.

Marion’s smile turned a trifle uncertain at that particular declaration.

"I cannot believe you three rescued the wrong woman!" Rip shook his head even as he looked over his shoulder, moving through the forest as fast as possible. Martin and Jax had already gotten out of Marion's sight, merged into Firestorm, and flashed back toward the Waverider to set up a camp of sorts.

"What did you want us to do, leave her? Even I'm not going to do that," Snart snarled.

"Mr. Snart, of all the dubious times to develop a moral compass..."

* * *

Jax and Martin had managed to set up quite a cozy little camp by the time they arrived, although the Gideon-created tents they'd retrieved from the Waverider certainly helped. Marion seemed happy to see it, and comfortable enough, even in her finery. She sat neatly by the side of the fire, sighed, and then turned her attention back to her rescuers, curious eyes focused on the pacing Snart.

“Why did you rescue me, over your own young lady?” Marion asked.

“Purely practical reasons,” Snart assured her. “We just happened to find you first.“

“Blondie can take care of herself,” Mick added.

Marion raised a questioning eyebrow at that.

Ray hastened to explain. “Our friend, Sara…she‘s very brave, and very clever, and a well-trained fighter.”

“Like I said, practical reasons,” Snart said, in a tone that he hoped would end the discussion.

Marion turned wise eyes on him. “And yet, you are still worried.”

“We’ve encountered Savage-the man you know as the Moor-before,” Ray said seriously. “He’s a very bad man. But I-we-believe in Sara. She’ll be all right.”

“I have never heard gentlemen place such trust in a lady’s abilities before,” Marion observed thoughtfully.

“Why did Savage have you locked up?” Snart asked, mostly to shift his thoughts away from anything that might or might not be happening to Sara right now. “It seems like a lot of trouble to go to, just to distract your boyfriend.”

“Robin is my betrothed,” Marion answered sharply. “Our marriage was contracted when we were children. I love him dearly, and he relies on my counsel.”

“Is that a fancy way of sayin’ you’re the brains of the operation?” Mick demanded.

“Just so. I misliked the Moor from our first meeting, and tried to counter his influence. Robin is a good and brave man, a hero to the populace, but he…”

“He’s not quite bright,“ Snart supplied. “I’ve met the guy.”

“He couldn’t tell the difference between you and Sara,” Mick chortled.

“Neither could Jax,” Snart replied scathingly.

“Your young lady? The one who looks like me?”

Snart nodded.

Marion laid a delicate hand on Snart’s arm. “I do not think he will hurt her. I suspect he wishes to use her in some sort of public display, to make it seem as if I endorse him. He had my maids take one of my gowns down to the dungeon.”

"Well, if he thinks he's going to get Sara to do anything she doesn't want to do, he's going to have another thing coming." Snart shrugged a bit uncomfortably. "Also, ah, not 'my _young lady.'"_

Mick rolled his eyes. "He and Blondie are the only two who don't see it," he said in a loud whisper to Marion. "Rest of us keep waiting for them to..."

"Mick!"

But Marion's eyes were understanding. "Ah." She studied Leonard a moment longer, although he pretended to ignore the scrutiny. "Well. If your...the lady in question is as formidable as you say, 'twil be but a matter of giving her an opportunity. This could yet work out in all our favors."

However, she continued to eye Snart speculatively. “How is it that you could tell that I was not your Sara?” she asked curiously.

“It’s all in the details. Posture. Body language. You carry yourself differently. And you were holding that chunk of firewood all wrong--I could have knocked it right out of your hand. Your instincts are good, but I’m guessing no one’s ever trained you to defend yourself.”

Marion shook her head slightly. “Perhaps you might…?”

“Actually, Sara would be the one to give you some pointers. She knows a lot about how to leverage an opponent’s size against him.”

“Plus, your face and the pretty dress gives you an advantage,” Mick added. “No one would expect you to fight back."

"This...is an intriguing notion. I shall have to think on it further."

* * *

 After Marion had a bit of a break, the group decided it was time to approach the "hero" of the tale again--in fact, Marion insisted. They could hear the argument as they approached the tavern.

“The Moor saved my life overseas!” Robin was insisting. “Why should I take the word of these strangers over his?”

Marion stepped into the room, calm and regal, despite the dirt staining her skirts and the unruly tendrils of hair that had come loose from the braids and ribbons. “Then take my word, dear heart.”

Robin was on his feet and at her side in an instant, eyes alight with adoration. “Marion? My love, I do not understand…you were here last night -”

“No, Robin. That was Mistress Sara, companion to these good gentlemen who rescued me. I am told she bears an uncanny resemblance to me, but I was not here last night. When I traveled to London last month, I was set upon by villains in the forest. I’ve been held captive these last weeks in the old monastery.”

Several of the villagers made signs to ward off the evil eye.

“Held captive by who?”

“By your false friend, the Moor.”

“Marion…no.”

“Robin, yes,” she replied firmly. “These men must needs go back to free their companion. Honor compels your assistance, love.”

“That place is cursed,” Little John muttered.

Marion rounded on him fiercely. “Cursed by the presence of an evil man. Would you suffer an innocent woman to languish in his clutches?”

“Oh, she’s good,” Mick muttered appreciatively, elbowing Snart in the ribs.

“Look, help, or don’t help. I don’t give a damn. I’m going back,” Snart told them. "We're wasting time."

“But how will you gain entry, good Master Leonard?” Marion asked, turning to him. “The guards will be on alert for intruders now.”

“The building where you were held is built upon ancient Roman ruins, Lady Marion,” Martin replied, choosing his words carefully. “There are…legends…of tunnels underneath the forest.”

“I, too have heard these tales,” Friar Tuck said dubiously, “but how will you find these tunnels?”

“Oh, er…ancient ruins are a specialty of mine,” Martin mumbled, knowing phrases like ‘computer’ and ‘thermal imaging’ would be rather the reverse of helpful in this setting.

The outlaws of Sherwood, somewhat grudgingly--and with Marion staring them down--agreed to help. Ray could barely contain himself until the Legends made it outside the tavern.

“Guys! We’re going to have an adventure in Sherwood Forest--with Robin Hood!” he exclaimed happily. 

Mick slapped him on the back. "Think you already said that, Haircut. But still...cool."

* * *

Sara was furious. At herself, for being caught. At Savage, for catching her. At the wall she was currently chained to. But mostly at the stupid dress she was wearing. Miles of embroidered white satin and a bodice she could hardly breathe in weren’t exactly conducive to escape. The only reason she was wearing it was that Savage had threatened the maidservants who’d come to dress her if she refused. The revolting leer on his face as he’d observed the process was just fuel to the fire.

She tensed at a commotion outside in the corridor, yanking futilely at the chains. The noise abruptly died away. There was the sound of a rusty key trying to turn in the lock, and some muffled cursing-then a couple of heavy thumps, and the door was shoved inwards.

“Sara?” Jax asked, squinting at the blonde in white satin who was chained to the dungeon wall, even as a teammate pushed impatiently past him into the cell.

“Sara,” Snart confirmed, his grin clearly showing the relief that he tried to mask with a snarky tone.

“Got any ideas for getting me out of here?” Sara carped, with a grin of her own.

Snart produced a skeleton key with his trademark flourish. “I like the dress,” he murmured as he unlocked Sara’s manacles.

“I like the tights,” she returned.

“Seriously, you guys?” Jax demanded. “This is supposed to be a getaway!”

“Can you even walk in that getup?” Mick asked.

“Watch me.”

Once they were back out in the hallway, where the rest of the team waited, Rip tossed her a staff that he’d liberated from the guard room, and they started back down the tunnel.

“Thanks. How long do you think we have before -”

“Ah. Gareeb. The pieces begin to fall into place now,” Savage said, stepping out of a side chamber. “The rabble that infests this forest could never have found this place without assistance. Tell me, did you really think you could surprise me in my own home?”

“Did you release the plague that killed everyone who lived here, just so you could move in?“ Ray demanded, aghast.

“That was just a happy coincidence. You misunderstand me. This is my home. These catacombs were designed to last for centuries. The Romans were quite impressed with all the skills I learned in the pharaoh’s court.”

“A bolt hole, in case you ever came back here. I expect there’s the obligatory chamber filled with the bones of the slaves who built this for you?” Rip replied.

“But of course. And soon, your bones will join them.” He gestured sharply, and a dozen thugs stepped out of the shadows.

Snart tried to watch Sara’s back, knowing the idiotic dress could be an impediment, but he found himself swept away from her.

Sara found herself face to face with Savage. She lashed out with the staff, still adjusting to the weight of the skirts, but experienced enough to be effective…at least, until Savage fought dirty, pressing his advantage while, at the same time, stepping hard onto the hem of the dress. Sara went down, hard on her back. Savage wrenched the staff from her grip, setting the end against her chest and pinning her to the floor.

“Tell me, my dear…how did such a dainty little bird come to have so many scars?” Savage taunted. His voice was loud enough to carry, knowing that the scars in question would generally be covered by clothing, and wanting to see which of her companions reacted to his insinuation.

“Shut your filthy mouth,” Sara ground out. She was struggling to rise, but the layers of slippery satin were working against her. Across the corridor, Snart actually growled in reaction to the words, drawing a considering glance--and a slow smile--from the villain.

Savage leaned more weight on the staff, making drawing a full breath that much harder. Suddenly, he stiffened, and fell forward, right on top of Sara, with three feathered shafts protruding from his back.

Little John and a jaunty-looking fellow in a dark red leather jerkin stepped forward to help Sara. The burly woodsman shoved Savage’s bulk aside, while the other carefully assisted Sara to her feet.

“Will Scarlet, at your service, Milady,” he said with a mocking little half bow.

“Thanks for the assist.”

“Sara?” Rip called.

“I’m good. Everyone else?”

The team and the Merry Men glanced around, assessing injuries.

“Hey, where’s Robin?” Ray asked.

“Robin--lad--where are ya?” Little John bellowed.

Spurred by instinct, Sara whirled around. “Where’s Savage?”

“We put three arrows in him,” Will protested.

“Um, yeah…he must have some really good body armor,” Sara hedged.

Snart shot her a look, and she half-shrugged. It’s not as if they could just talk about an immortal sorcerer with this lot.

“We’ll have to go after them,” Rip said.

Sara looked down at the bedraggled gown that she’d had quite enough of, thank you very much. “Snart, a little help here?” she asked, jerking her chin in the direction of one of the side chambers.

Wisely, no one chose to comment when they returned a few moments later, Sara wearing Snart’s leather vest over a knee-length linen shift.

* * *

 “We’ve got to find Savage and your Lord Locksley,” Rip said, as the team rifled through the guard room for weapons.

“I dinna’ understand,” Little John replied. “Me an’ Will, we put three arrows in the bastard.”

Ray patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. “We know you did, but like Sara said, he must have been wearing really good body armor.”

“And that’s another thing,” Will piped up, “you surely can’t be thinking to take a lady out into the woods in search of a villain.”

 Sara tried to smother a smile as she wrapped a sword belt around her slender waist. Mick didn’t even bother to conceal his wolfish grin. “Be nice,” she muttered.

“A word, Miss Lance?” Rip asked quietly.

“Sure,” Sara replied, stepping off to the side of the chamber.

“I’d prefer it if you were to use a bow or staff when we go up against Savage.”

“Excuse me?” Sara said coldly. “I’m probably the best sword we’ve got.”

“I’m sure you are, but I’d rather you not get that close. The only person who can actually end Savage is back aboard the Waverider, because we don’t currently have a suitable weapon.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know that, but you don’t have the means to kill him. All we need to do is get Robin safely out of his clutches. I believe he’s seen enough that Marion and Friar Tuck can set him back on the path he was meant to follow.”

Sara stalked away from him and selected a bow, quiver, and staff. She also did not discard the sword.

Mick and Snart drifted up beside her, ostensibly to choose more weapons.

“What did Rip want?” Snart murmured.

“To remind me that I‘m not an Egyptian demigoddess with the power to exterminate an ancient evil son of a bitch.”

“Englishman’s right, Blondie,” Mick muttered. “You can’t kill Savage, but he can kill you.”

“I can hurt him.”

“ _We_ can hurt him,” Mick replied, grinning.

“Look, I know you’re pissed because he got the drop on you -”

“Twice.”

“But he’s killed Kendra and Carter how many times? Savage fights dirty, and he’s got a lot of experience. Don’t get yourself killed, Sara. The world is a much more interesting place with you in it,” Snart said quietly.

Ray came up beside them.  “They’re right, Sara,” he said earnestly. “We’ve got to do this as a team.”

“How, exactly? You guys all had to leave your favorite toys on board the ship. You said it yourself, Snart--none of you know how to shoot arrows.”

“Aye, but _we_ do, lassie,” Little John reminded her. “And it’s our friend we’re going to save. And if there’s one thing we’ve all learned, living out here in the greenwood, it’s that we are stronger together.”

* * *

“Are we agreed then?” Rip asked quietly, glancing around at his team as they congregated outside the monastery. “We don’t have the means to finish Savage permanently-not right now. It needs to look like a conventional death, though, so as not to disrupt the time stream, so no-you may not retrieve your weapons from the ship. Once he’s down, I’ve got a powerful sedative that should keep him out until we can pick him up and secure him in the Waverider. Mr. Snart, Mr. Rory -”

“Hood retrieval detail. Got it,” Snart acknowledged.

“Beggin’ yer pardon, Captain,” Little John began hesitantly, joining the group as they paused outside the old monastery.

“Yes, of course Mr. …er…”

“Oh, just John is fine, sir. Me and the lads was wonderin,’ why didn’t you just tell us the truth?”

“Sorry?” Rip squeaked, trying desperately to maintain an innocent face.

“Well, this Moor…he’s obviously one o’ them wizards we’ve heard tell of. Every gaffer in the village that come back from the Holy Land told stories of his like. And you lot-you’ve obviously been sent to catch him. Got your own friar, and everything. We don’t know no magic or nothing, but we’re all good in a fight, and we want to help.”

Snart smirked at Rip, who was struggling to regain his composure. “Little John-is it OK if I call you that?” he said smoothly. “Good. The Moor is indeed a very dangerous wizard, and it’s going to take a lot of arrows to bring him down. Can you and your friends take care of that for us?”

“It’d be our pleasure, sir.”

“Good man,” Snart replied, clapping him heartily on the shoulder.

“That was slick,” Sara murmured.

“Improvisation is no substitute for a good plan, but it does have its uses.”

* * *

Spreading out from the monastery, it didn't take Mick and Snart long to find their missing archer, even though his clothing had blended into the patch of forest floor and shrubbery where he lay.

"He's down," Snart muttered into his comm. "Guessing he's been knocked in the head, but the real problem is the stab wound to the side. Bad enough in these conditions, but I bet Savage poisons his blades. Guy's a funny shade of green and I'm not talking about the stupid clothes."

"Stay put, Mr. Snart," Rip's voice echoed back. "The rest of us will find you. Sara? I believe you and the, ah, 'Merry Men' are closest."

"Already ahead of you," Sara acknowledged as she ran into the clearing, slowing to walk over to Snart and study Robin's face. "I think you're right. They're..."

"I see that my trap worked." The oily voice echoed about the forest, lifting the hairs on the back of Sara's neck as she straightened and turned, keeping herself between the others and Savage, who strolled slowly out from the trees. "Heroes. So predictable..."

"Sara..."

“I got this,” Sara said, drawing her sword and advancing on Savage. "You take care of Robin."

“Watch your back, Assassin,” Snart muttered

“Always.”

“Back for more, little bird?” Savage said with a sneer that Sara studiously ignored, narrowing her eyes as she paced toward him.

“Back for your head,” she snarled.

“Better warriors than you have been trying for longer than you can possibly imagine.”

Sara flickered a blow that Savage easily deflected.

“Is that the best you can do?” he asked lazily.

“Come and find out.”

He charged and Sara spun out of the way, slicing through Savage‘s sleeve.

The man paused to consider the slice. “First blood. Well done.”

“It’s not the first cut that counts.”

They traded blows back and forth across the clearing. Over Savage’s shoulder, Sara saw Mick and Snart dragging Robin away, and Little John and Will Scarlet moving into position.

“And what is your heroic gentleman doing while you are here entertaining me, hmm?” the immortal asked her, all-too-obviously trying for distraction.

And failing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sara smirked, dodging behind a tree as several arrows struck home.

Savage staggered, rage taking over his face. "You think this will stop me? You..." The next sound he made was an odd sort of gurgle as Will put an arrow right into his throat. Savage fell, and Sara wearily let her sword arm fall to her side.

"Rip?" she said quietly. "Now would be a good time."

"Well...I am a _Time_ Master." The captain threw her a grin as he emerged from the trees, Ray and Jax flanking him, and hastened over to the fallen villain. Sara sighed. 

“We could save ourselves a lot of trouble, and just cut his head off,” Will mused.

“I think that chamber of bones in the dungeon will do to keep him for now,” Rip hedged, swiftly pocketing the injector he’d just used under the guise of checking for a pulse.

“Where’s Robin?” John asked, looking around the clearing.

“Our friends took him to see Brother Martin and get that thick skull of his tended to,” Sara replied. “Come on…take an arm…he weighs a ton,” she continued, drawing their attention from the direction in which Snart and Mick had disappeared.

“Never mind, lass. I’ve got him,” John said amiably, hoisting Savage up across his broad back. “Lead on, then.”

* * *

With Savage stowed safely in the monastery cell, Ray and Jax took charge of cleaning up some of the details of his presence there and in the village. Meanwhile, the others headed back to the Waverider to check on the "hero" of the story. Snart had been right about the poisoned blade, but Gideon was able to counteract the substance and start Robin's wounds healing as Sara changed happily into more reasonable clothing and Rip checked on the timeline.

Then they headed back to tie up loose ends. 

“Robin!” Marion cried, rising from her seat next to the fire as Snart and Mick helped the woozy hero to a seat on a fallen log.

“He’ll be fine, my lady,” Snart informed her. “Brother Martin is quite adept at healing wounds.”

“Thank you,” Marion said with a radiant smile, perching gracefully next to Robin and taking one of his hands in her own.

Ray and Jax came back up a different path, both looking rather grim.

“How did it go?” Rip asked, eyeing their long faces.

“We freed all of Savage’s servants from the monastery,” Jax replied.

“My maids?” Marion asked quickly.

“They’re safe back at the tavern, Lady Marion,” Ray told her. “Little John’s wife is looking after them.”

“But we did run into a problem,” Jax added.

“Don’t we always?” Rip sighed.

“When we went back to check on Savage, the cell was already empty,” Ray informed him grimly. "That's gotta be a new record."

Rip swore, then absently apologized to Marion in response to a glare from Robin.

Unexpectedly, Jax laughed. “Thing is, though, Alan-a-Dale is in the tavern, singing a song about the evil wizard. He describes Savage pretty well. I don’t imagine he’d be able to show his face around here any time soon.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose.”

“Oh, and Friar Tuck sent this for Lord Locksley. A royal messenger was in the village looking for him.” Ray passed the small parchment scroll to Robin, who broke the wax seal.

 Robin slowly read the message from London. “King Richard is returning to the Holy Land. He’s left the government in the hands of his brother.”

“You see, my love?” Marion said gently. “Good King Richard trusts in his brother. You must, as well.”

“But the Moor said -”

“The Moor told you many things, but the falsity of his words was proven in battle.”

“But-”

“If you want to serve your king, Lord Locksley, you need to look after his people,” Rip suggested.

“How?”

An impish grin lit Sara’s face. “Back home, I’ve got this friend. He wears a green hood, and he’s the best archer I’ve ever seen. He defends his city. He protects people who can’t protect themselves. Sound like anyone you know?”

Robin stared at her...and then a slow smile started to spread over his face. Little John clapped him on the back.

“Something else about our friend,” Ray continued, with a grin, “he’s got a best friend named John - a good strong man.”

“And a very brave and smart lady, who’s not afraid to tell him when he’s being an ass,” Sara finished, nodding at Marion.

Marion smiled, ignoring Robin's faint noise of protest at the word. "Well then," she said regally, "I think that this sounds like a good plan."

* * *

The outlaws were headed back to their forest, the true beginning of the adventures of Robin Hood firmly in place. Sara sighed, stretching her arms to work out the kinks still there from her time in Savage's dungeon, then noticed the tall figure at the other side of the fire, trying to look as although he wasn't waiting for her-even though he obviously was.

She strolled over to Snart's side casually. "So...you never did tell me how you could tell me and Marion apart."

“Oh, that was easy," Snart replied airily, looking away. "She was perfect. Perfect hair, perfect dress - and perfectly useless. You would have had one of us down before we even cleared the door." He turned his head then, and finally met her eyes. "You’re the one I trust to have my back.”

 For a long second, Sara just stared at him. Then she smiled.

"Only you," she told him, reaching out to squeeze his arm lightly, "would make that into a compliment." 

That earned her a smirk...but his expression went blank as she stepped just a little nearer, went up on her toes, and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you. And thanks for the vest." 

She was a good 20 feet away before he managed "You're welcome."

* * *

"Mistress...Sara?"

With a sigh, Sara turned aside from her purposeful stalk back toward the Waverider to look toward the woman who'd approached from her left. "Maid Marion. Are you all right? I thought you'd left with Lord Locksley and the others."

The other woman--it really was like looking in a mirror in many ways--hesitated. "I wished to speak with you. Before we left," she said finally. "Do you think that, perhaps, you might be able to give me some...what did they say? pointers...before you leave? Master Snart suggested as much. And I mislike the notion of being at such a villain's mercy ever again."

 _Snart suggested, huh?_ "Mai...Marion. I would be honored." Sara gave her an impish smile. "No woman should ever suffer at the hands of men."

After a moment, Marion smiled back.

* * *

Snart and Robin watched, seated on a fallen log, as Sara coached Marion through basic defensive moves with a staff. Gideon had hastily fabricated a loosely cut dark green woolen dress that fell to mid-calf. It swirled easily with Marion‘s movements.

Mick wandered by, tankard in hand. “Wow. And I thought Blondie by herself was hot.”

Both men flashed dark looks in his direction. Mick shrugged and kept on walking.

“You’re really quite good at this,” Marion remarked, slightly out of breath as she parried Sara’s easy blow. “It this common where you come from? For ladies to fight, I mean?”

“Not as common as it should be. Robin, and John, and the rest of them - they’d do anything to keep you safe, but there’s no reason why you can’t protect yourself.”

“And you think this is the best weapon for me?”

“The staff is a good place to start. It places distance between you and your attacker. It doesn’t need ammunition, and you can always find one.”

“Like a tree branch?”

“Or a broom. Whatever comes to hand.” Sara cracked Marion smartly across the knuckles.

“Ow!”

“Keep your focus,” Sara chided. “Get one of the guys to spar with you. You have to practice. A lot.”

“Much, perhaps? He’s about your size.”

“John,” Sara said firmly.

Marion looked at the tall man speculatively. “And you really think I could beat someone his size?”

“Yeah, I do,” Sara replied firmly.

Rip approached the impromptu practice session, then, waiting to be acknowledged before nodding at them. “If you ladies are quite done,” he said deferentially, “we really need to be going.”

“Thank, you Sara, gentlemen, for everything you’ve done for us,” Marion said graciously. “Should you ever pass this way again, pray do visit us.”

“We will,” Sara replied, smiling as she engulfed her new friend in a strong hug. “Look after yourself…and him.”

“And you do likewise.”

Robin offered Marion his arm formally to guide her through the woodland path, with the other Merry Men following along.

“Guys, I can’t believe we met Robin Hood!” Ray said gleefully as the Legends watched the legends go.

“Yeah, Haircut. We know,” Mick grumped.

“I can’t wait to tell Oliver and Felicity!”

Even Snart couldn‘t repress a grin, imagining that particular conversation. **  
**

* * *

“Mr. Snart, I have some information you may find interesting.”

“Do tell?” Snart drawled, laying down his cards. The crook and the assassin were back in their usual spot in the Waverider's cargo bay as the ship flew through the temporal zone toward their next stop. Rip had mentioned something about Nepal in the mid-1930s.

“When I was treating Lord Locksley’s injuries, I noticed something peculiar. He shares several key genetic markers with you.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” Sara asked.

“Mr. Snart, are you aware that your father's family is primarily of French and English descent?”

“Not really the sort of thing my old man kept up on.”

“And your grandfather’s name was Leonard, was it not?”

“Yeah.”

“The name Leonard is repeated many times in your family’s history. It is derived from the French, meaning ’lion-bold.’ It is also the name given to the firstborn son of Lord and Lady Locksley, in honor of their friend -”

“King Richard the Lion Heart,” Sara concluded. She shook her head. "In other words, it's a good thing you saved Marion, after all."

Snart leaned his head back against the wall and regarded her a long moment. Finally, though, the crook simply shook his head, dropped his gaze to his cards, then lifted it back up to meet her eyes.

"Apparently," he told Sara dryly, "I got _her_ brains."

Sara chuckled. “So…if he was the Prince of Thieves, what does that make you?” she asked mischievously.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Snart drawled, smirking at her before picking up a card. “King of the Crooks has kind of a nice ring, don’t you think?”


End file.
